Emrys
by fortheloveofOTPs
Summary: Her whole life has been normal. Normal family, normal life, normal everything. Then it all starts changing when the new girl shows up, but she'd never thought it would change that much. Now Emrys is left with the ultimate decision; stay, or go.


With a groan of frustration I yanked my brush through my hair one last time. I didn't know why I ever thought it would cooperate, seeing how I had this same struggle every day. Giving up on braiding it I grabbed my phone and rushed down the stairs, grabbing the railing to steady myself as I flew into the den, late for school as usual. I bounded into the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter.

"Do you need a ride?" my brother called from the bathroom, where he was helping my little sister get dressed.

"Nah, I'll walk. But thanks anyway Dylan."

"Better hurry then, you're late."

"Aren't I always?" I mumbled around a mouth full of apple.

"Bye Emmy," my little sister said as she hurried out the bathroom to wrap her arms around me.

"Bye Clara," I said in response. "Have a good day at school Joel!" I yelled into the den where my younger brother was frantically trying to finish his homework. I grabbed my lunch off the counter, saying a silent thank you to Dylan and then rushed out the door and sprinted off towards school, my backpack bouncing against my legs as I ran.

I made it into the building as the minute warning bell was ringing. I tossed my apple core in the trash then ran my fingers through my still messy hair as I slid into my seat. I stashed my backpack under my desk and let out a sigh of relief, I had made it just in the nick of time.

"Did you do the math homework from last night?" my friend Mark asked in a hushed voice as the teacher rummaged around her desk, getting stuff together.

"Please tell me you did it," I pleaded as I turned to him, my fingers busy braiding my hair back.

Mark gave me a sheepish look that told me everything I needed to know.

"What other homework do you need?" I asked as I finished with the braid and began to dig around my backpack.

"French," he said, eyes cast on the ground.

The teachers back was turned, writing on the board this time, so I quickly tossed him my French booklet and then the math packet we were supposed to complete last night. Mark wasn't the smartest kid in school, but he was smart and sweet and despite his best efforts a total klutz. He was also my best friend so I had a certain soft spot for him. The lesson started and I was emerged in an exquisite in depth study of The Anthem, our latest book. The hour ticked by slowly.

I tapped my pencil to a song inside my head and sighed, resisting the urge to count the number of days until graduation, a pointless thing seeing how it was over two years away.

The bell finally rang and I all too eagerly packed up my notes and slipped everything into my bag.

"Come on Marcus, let's go to art."

Mark groaned, "That's not my name you know."

"You love it when I call you that," I said with a grin.

"Maybe just you," Mark agreed as he grabbed his bag and headed for the door.

I linked my arm in his and we set off down the hall way together. One of the main perks about being in a school as small as ours was the fact that most kids had the same schedule, which held true for Mark and I, seeing how we shared every period but third together when I went off to advanced chemistry and Mark to regular.

We arrived in art earlier than usual and took a set near the back, where the most light from the windows came into the classroom. I pulled out my sketch book and flipped it to our latest assignment.

We were supposed to be painting something that held deeper meaning to us. Most people were painting a family member or a childhood toy. Mark was painting this pair of beaten up combat boots he always wore. To be honest it was quite a good painting, full of different shading techniques and all, it felt like I should be able to reach down and pull the boots right out of the paper.

'My own painting can't even dream of holding a candle to Mark's,' I thought as I grabbed a cup of water and two sets of brushes and then retrieving my painting from the rack it had been resting on.

I was painting the moon, a big and full moon on a clear night sky. I had to redo the blending of the moon into the sky four times before I was finally happy with it. Then the sky itself was problematic, being dark but not all the way black, with hints of deep blue or purple here or there. I was in the final stages of the painting, adding definition to the moon's rough and tattered surface which was good seeing how they were due by the end of class today.

The bell signaling the start of class rang and the murmur of voices died down as everyone set to work. Mark and I worked in silence, with the occasion question from him, asking how something looked or if he should shade lighter or darker. I was happy to finish my painting before class's end, and set to work cleaning my brushes.

I was at the sink minding my own business when I was joined by Nate, a boy who I had honestly never shared a word with outside of art class, and barely shared one with inside of class.

"Did you hear about the new girl?" he asked as he began washing his brushes.

After I got over the initial shock of him having actually talking to me I was confused, I didn't hear of a new girl.

"No," I admitted.

"Well she's smocking hot. I'm pretty sure she has Chemistry next period. Mrs. Landar."

"That's what I have," I said as I finished washing up my brushes and started drying them. "I guess I'll see her then." I tossed the towel down and headed back to my table.

"Be sure to put in a good word for me!" Nate called after me, like I would ever put in a good word for him.

"What was that all about?" Mark asked as I got back to the table.

"Apparently there's a new girl. I have chemistry with her next period."

"Have fun without me," Mark said with a mock pout.

I rolled my eyes at him as I fell back into my seat. I glance over at his painting and was shocked.

"Oh my god Mark, that's amazing!" I exclaimed.

"Really?" he asked, looking up.

"Are you kidding me? It looks just like a photograph!"

"A black and white one."

"Those are the best kinds," I said as I leaned in closer to get a better look.

"You don't think it needs anything else done on it?" he asked, worried.

"Not at all," I reassured. "This belongs in an art museum as it is."

"Sure it does," Mark said with a laugh as he got up to wash his brushes.

As he did that I carefully placed first mine then Mark's paintings in the drying racks. Then I went over to help Mark wash his brushes.

"Now you don't have art homework for tonight."

"But I have lots of other homework. And no one's home tonight, my dad's out of town again."

Mark never really told me much about his life at home, and I never pried. Whenever we hung out it was out in town or at my house.

"You could sleep over if you wanted. We could do homework, watch a Disney movie with the kids, and there's a full moon tonight." I said, smiling up at him.

"How could I say no to you?" he asked as he pressed a cold and wet finger to my nose before going off to get his bag.

"Hey!" I protested as I wiped my nose clean and chased after him.

"I'll go get my stuff after school and come right over. What's for dinner?"

"Most likely chicken and pasta," I said as I gathered up my stuff.

"Sounds delicious."

The bell rang then so we parted ways.

"Have fun in chemistry!" he called at my retreating form.

"Pay attention!" I yelled back.

I was engulfed by the crowd after that but I could have sworn I heard him yell 'No promises!' back.

I chuckled as I made my way through the crowded halls to my locker to grab my advanced chemistry book. Once the book was safely tucked under my arm I headed back down the hall to my class. When I got there it was still pretty empty, the only people there being the early comers like me. I grabbed my normal seat near the window, second row.

I pulled a book out my bag and tried to entertain myself as the class room slowly filled up. It was a good distraction for me since I always had to pay close attention to the words in order to keep them from floating off the pages. Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone sit beside me, but I didn't bother to glance up until the warning bell rang. When I did I saw the one and only new girl, as I didn't recognize her.

She actually was gorgeous, I had to admit. She wore her curly blonde hair in a messy braid down her back and an orange shirt, with something that looked like a pegasus on it. Her bag looked pretty new, must be a new town thing, as did all her school supplies. She had high cheek bones and a Grecian looking nose, with intimidating grey eyes that were currently trained on the white board.

Without warning she turned to me, her eyes calculating.

"I'm sorry, but could you tell me what it says in the right hand corner, the stuff written in cursive?"

I must have been looking at her with a questioning expression for she rushed to explain.

"It's just that I'm dyslexic and that's some pretty messy cursive."

I had to agree with her, Mrs. Landar's cursive was of the worst quality.

"Sure," I agreed. "I'm not the best reader myself, I suffer the curse of the dyslexics as well, but I can still tell you what it says. It's just the date, October 25, Wednesday. Then underneath it says lesson 13, which is the lesson we're currently on."

"Thanks" she said, flashing me a grateful smile. "I'm Annabeth by the way."

"Nice to meet you Annabeth, my name's Emrys."

She stared at me with an odd expression for a moment before going back to her smile. "I was going to say that's an interesting name, which is what most people say for mine."

I smiled, "My brother chose it for me, though he was only four at the time so that probably wasn't the best choice my parents could have made."

Our conversation probably could have gone on longer, but the bell rang and Annabeth turned her head back to the front and began taking notes on Mrs. Landar's lecture.

Today is actually shaping out to be a pretty nice day, I thought to myself. I wasn't late this morning, we had a new girl who seemed pretty cool, Mark was sleeping over this evening, and it wasn't even lunch yet.


End file.
